Well then, look for Exotic arrows at the vendors...they are exploding fire arrows, very fun!

Ake...#80

LOL. Thanks! No more weddings....

Eh - yeah, hangovers svck boulders through itty-bitty straws.... Great update Andy! That Kerik - Ake's gonna have to watch him!

The Ravensdaughter:

I - wasn't quite ready to seek out Paarthurnax. I wasn't sure why, but something - internal - with a link to Raven Clan - was telling me to go back to Morthal first. Well, I hadn't any time limits as far as I knew - so.... I did just that. Several days later, I walked into Highmoon Hall. Idgrod was the only one in evidence. My brows flew toward my hairline. "Aunt. I hope I see you well? Where's Aslfur, the children, Grom?"

"I.... sent them away for a bit. We need to talk. You need to hear the rest of it before you get too deep into Blades and Greybeards and their machinations."

Well, that was a facer. She had obviously known just exactly when I'd walk through the door.... "At your pleasure then, Aunt. Would you like to remove to your rooms?"

"No. No.... this is best done here - where I know there's none but you to hear." Shimblenidders as that something ran over my grave again....

"Verinne Ravenwing. The horror you don't know yet.... and that you must know now in full.... While it's not my fault precisely, I didn't do enough to stop it. THAT is a stain on my honor that may never wash clean."

I shuddered - her voice was doom-laden, and her eyes were full black - she was deep in Seeing, and this wasn't just Seeing, but Seeing into the past.... I couldn't still the shivers - they were bone-deep, blood-deep.

"Here's the way of it. When I was young, Clan Raven was becoming - less - than it had been, because of breeding out to 'lesser' clans (I never thought them that - but others did.... too many others for me to argue against). And some of it was also because of inbreeding - that's not a thing that is good for man or beast as I'm sure you know. While that was all happening in the background, in the forefront of everything was my other sister - Aglaia. She thrust herself to the lead of every discussion, and she had just one thing to offer: there was a way to become the Raven.... if one accepted the pact....

"My parents, your grandmother, your mother and her handfasted lover (more of him later....) and I myself were appalled - and many of the other clan members as well. The wapentake Elders gave leave for your parents to marry - a good thing, as your mother was within a fortnight of bearing you. The joining was held, and then all who chose not to follow Aglaia packed themselves up and headed into Cyrodiil, you yourself just days old.

"You see.... Aglaia had made compact with some unholy god or other - she and the rest of her followers chose to abrogate their humanity to become the first of the Hagravens. And we've never been rid of them since...." She sighed and seemed a bit more present. I was too shocked to be able to say a word. Hagravens.... Divines help me....

"I stayed here, marrying Aslfur and removing to Morthal, while the rest of Clan Raven went to Bruma. Many of the ills here in Morthal are due to Aglaia's ill-wishing. Oh yes, she's alive still. After all, she's my youngest sister. So, you see, while there is still Raven Clan in Skyrim - we five are the only human members left. I...." Her eyes rolled back and she was in full prophetess mode suddenly.

"You will be the death of Aglaia. With her death, the hags and their briarhearts will diminish; the Forsworn will find they have fewer powerful protectors. In time, Skyrim's air will be cleaner because you have come to live here." She slumped and I ran to her side.

"No, no. I will be fine. There's fortified wine on the table...." I grabbed up a goblet and brought it to her. She sipped, and color returned to her face. "Now, you know all. Aslfur of course knows. I have not told the children - they need to be fully advlt before knowing. And by then...." She sipped again, and I gave her the full honor bow.

"I will deal with this. But first I have to deal with whatever is going on - Blades and Greybeards and a dragon resurrecting others...." I sighed. "I wanted to just make Morthal my home, move here, be close to family, build a home, work the mine.... but - I think the quiet life will not be mine soon. I will write as I can, so that you know - well," I laughed suddenly, " you don't need letters then, do you Aunt?"

"Well, not precisely Verinne. But I'm like any other old Aunt - I love to open and read them!" I bent and laid my cheek against hers.

"Thank you. In some way, it is better that I know this now - because it will give me an incentive to be DONE with Blades and Greybeards. I will return as soon as I may - but I don't know how long this will take me."

She smiled, a bit sadly. "It will take as long as it does. I will keep things going along with your home. You WILL make your home here, in peace and quiet, one day."

I bowed myself out, and went to the inn. I couldn't possibly have started off for the Throat of the World that day....

Well, sweetheart - I didn't see it coming either. Talk about "seat of the pants" writing....

Sere!! WOW! Veri...has to be in major shock!! I'm not even going to speculate, she sure has a mess now! That was Awesome!! Can't wait to see how she deals with this revelation!

Yeah, well... I'M in major shock - because I honestly have no clue where that came from. Subconscious I guess.... I mean, it was obvious that the Raven Clan issue had to be huge.... but that literally blew ME away.

Sometimes.... I KNOW these people are just telling me their stories.... They ARE alive in some other reality. And I'm just the scribe....

Yeah, gets creepy that way!

It's not exactly creepy when I'm doing the writing - what's creepy is when that sort of stuff invades my dreams.... And that happens at new moon and full moon. Every month. Now those are some seriously unquiet nights....

Unfocused longings,

unremembered dreams,

Unheard whispers,

unquiet schemes....

Thank you kind Sir Rick! Now, since Aslfur (in my story) is a "watered down" Raven (not sure what the rest of his blood is, since it doesn't matter much at this point) I guess you can just figure Iddy the Younger gets her looks from his side.... heh.

As for where I keep it.... I really do NOT know where that came from, but hey, I knew as soon as I got partway into it that it worked. Now the only other mystery is Veri's father.... Except for the dreams she's had, I'm letting that one stew while we get to the end of the MQ.

Veri's Tale:

I woke frequently that night. Every time I dropped into sleep I saw hagravens, with their claws, their feathers, their beaky noses - and their ability with alchemy (that would be poisons of course) and magic. So as restful went, it wasn't. I dragged out of bed as early as I thought Jonna would be up and available to sell me breakfast. She was anything but friendly - looked like she'd had her own bad night. "Sorry.... I just need somewhat to eat before I leave. I'll be out of your hair shortly."

"Eh, don't mind me. I had bad dreams last night...."

I bought a bowl of stew to eat for breakfast, and a sandwich for later, and headed for Solitude to get a carriage. On the way to Whiterun, I thought I might have been better off bringing Black along - but no, I was good for the walk to High Hrothgar, and I wanted my horse well out of it - he was safe and cared for in Morthal. We don't think enough about the beasts we use to make our lives easy. Black stayed where he was, and I'd manage.

Besides, what could he have done to help with bone-killing freezing mists blowing in whirlwinds about me? Nothing of course - and while the Shout helped some, I was cold like the dead before I got anywhere close to Paarthurnax's aerie. I wished there was a shelter, somewhere I could warm up with a bit of a fire - but there wasn't, so I forged ahead. Darkness fell, and the mists and veils of gelid air hit me with pummeling blows. I was sobbing for breath, but finally there was a small jut of stone behind which I hid from the cold and the winds for long enough to warm slightly. I couldn't believe it some hours later - I'd actually fallen asleep.... that small bit of warm had been a boon of major proportions....

I pushed on at dawn, and finally reached a place where the winds were dead and sun was rising over the world. The view from there was.... well.... I didn't have words to express it. I stood, and just watched day chase cold night across all of Skyrim. Tears froze on my face. Beauty has ever affected me that deeply, and this morning, atop the highest point in the world the glory of that sunrise was enough to send me to my knees, sobbing.

There was a thunder of huge wings.... and then, "Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah ... my mountain?"

A dragon. The gods were laughing, weren't they?

The update, the journey...Great!

But that last line? Freaking Perfect! *grin*

Loved it!

Serethil....excellent! perfect end so the next part of the journey may begin... though Veri may not know it.

As a kind of side note, if things seem a bit confused or out of order, you should know that in fact there have been three Brands, and a fourth will be created for the DiD competition. Anyway, the stories of all three have been kind of mooshed together...

Brand slowly swirled the ale in his nearly empty tankard, and intently watched the liquid swirl around the inside of the metal vessel. Though he had been staring as if it were the only thing in the world, he actually wasn't seeing the tankard at all.


His thoughts were dark, fixed on the dark events of recent weeks. He had truly liked Hod, and enjoyed evening in the Sleeping Giant sharing tall tales and tall flagons of strong drink with the burly lumberman.


Then one evening just as Brand was entering the village, he heard cries from farther down the road, and rushed forward only to see Hod fall to a vampire just as the Whiterun guards ended the fight. If Hod had only been able to last one more moment, he'd have been fine. As it was, Brand could still hear Gerdur's tortured cry as she first saw Hod's lifeless body laying crumpled on the stony road... and he supposed it would be long before the memory faded, if it ever did.


At the time, Brand had still not retrieved the dragon stone from Bleak Falls Barrow, and he'd decided that he'd rather face whatever waited in the barrow than be responsible for innocent deaths from dragon attacks.


With that in mind, he had recruited Faendahl to provide fire support with his bow, and the Wood Elf seemed happy to help. The two thought that it would likely be just a matter of passing through dusty passages and having ghost stories to tell at the Inn afterwards. It wasn't likely there'd be much resistance inside a tomb, after all...


Faendahl had fought bravely right beside Brand as the two passed through the entire tomb, facing all manner of undead abominations with his fear only rarely showing, and then...


In the final room, the Main Chamber as Farengar had described it, they met a death overlord. The undead monster shouted Faendahl's weapon from his hand, and Brand at that point decided to use shield and spell. A spell might be interrupted, but you don't have to hunt around onf the floor for the blasted thing.


The battle wore on far longer than Brand would have thought possible, and Faendahl was eventually sorely wounded because he was trying to attack with his bare hands. Courageous in the extreme, but foolhardy. Brand was off to one side as Faendahl took a knee and yeilded to the undead warrior asking for mercy.


Brand cast a frostbite spell at the overlord, but as the draugr turned to face him, some quirk of fate sent a stray part of the spell toward Faendahl. The frosty blast only just grazed the Bosmer, and only for an instant, but that was enough to end the Wood Elf's life.


Brand finished his drink and ordered another. He was uncertain how many he'd already downed, but it really didn't matter to him. He'd drink to be merry and drink to forget, but it seemed neither one was going to happen anytime soon.


He looked over at Lydia, and raised his now full tankard as he stood on wavering feet. "A toast, Lovely Lydia. To Faendahl and Hod, Riverwood's finest." A young girl stood nearby, and hesitantly interrupted after the toast was done. "I'm so hungry... Please sir can you spare a coin?"


With only small difficulty, Brand fished out a shiny coin for the girl, and he would have given her more but... for some reason, he just couldn't. There was no way to do it.


Resuming his seat with a grumble, he spoke to Lydia again. "Do you remember that dragon at Arcwind Point? He was a mean one, and backed up by all those skeletal warriors and that draugr at the bottom of the steps and that Gods cursed Death Overlord at the top. His shouts nearly killed me even while I was healing up with both hands at once."


"I thought we were both dead when he started down those stairs with our doom in his eyes, but we finally put him down, didn't we?" He all but drained the tankard of brew before continuing. "Side by side we faced that devil, you with the Axe of Whiterun, and me with shield and mace. We must have hammered on him for two or three hours!"


The little girl had not moved far away from the table, and now she interrupted Brand again. "Who are you talking to mister? You're the only one here besides me and Hulda."


With a frown, Brand looked back at Lydia, only to see that she was gone and he and the little girl were indeed the only ones there. With that, he remembered that at the end of that battle at the top of that gods-awful long flight of stairs, Lydia had been nowhere to be found. After searching for what seemed hours, he had finally located her body off to one side of the stone steps and about half-way to the top. She had died, and he had not even noticed when it happened. How could that be?


Brand fell back into his chair, and regarded the small girl who stood next to him. "Get away from me child, and leave me to my cups. I fear that just being near me may bring you a death sentence." With a roar, he regained his feet. "I said GET AWAY child, run as if a dremora was chasing you!"


With a low, whimpering cry the girl turned running for the door, and Brand immediately regretted his words and actions - but like always, it was too late and the girl was gone out into the night.


Sitting back down then he'd recalled that just this afternoon... No, yesterday afternoon, he'd decided to return to Embershard Mine seeking his 'Dita, his love. As he'd neared the top of the incline and was just to the point where he could see the mine entrance, he'd seen a body laying near the top of trail. His heart had leaped into his throat, and suddenly he couldn't seem to breathe. His entire world focused on that lifeless body for a moment that seemed like eternity.


That moment almost cost him his life as a huge wolf attacked from his left side with a growling leap. It was fortunate that the Wolf attacked Brand's shield arm, and almost without even thinking he slammed the shield into the wolf's snout and brought his mace down on the animals skull. In a moment, the wolf lay dead and Brand turned to face the body once more.


Gently, Brand turned the still-warm corpse over in order to better see the face. ...and again Bran's heart skipped a beat. The woman laying there wasn't his 'Dita! Almost like an echo to the cry of the wolf, Brand's howl of joyous relief flew into the skies, as the sun for once shone down brightly on his upturned face.


He had gone into the mine, and tried to ask where his 'Dita had gone. Although the place was full of bandits, some had to be killed, and none of them could or would tell him where 'Dita had gone. All that was known was that one day she had grabbed her belongings and her share of the loot, and gone on her way.


So it was that Brand vowed to search the bandit holds of Skyrim until he found her once more... but the search had led him first to the Bannered Mare, and surely one little drink couldn't hurt, eh?


***

N_{ice Story Neil...}

Good stuff, Neil and RG! Very well played, both of you. Much enjoying the stories!

Neil, you're breaking my heart here! Wonderful story, but it makes me want to just hug Brand.

Raging Ghost, very nice, and somebody has been very busy! (glad you took out Potema, hehe)

[[Forgive me for shortcutting the stuff with Paar - all that talk - and since Veri's not exactly doing things the "way the game wants it done", I think it's better to just get on with it....]]

The Ravensdaughter:

I slumped to the floor inside High Hrothgar. The Greybeards looked at me, walked around me, said nothing. I laid my forehead on my pulled-up knees to hide the tears. I had too much pride to let these old men see me cry. And cry I needed to - how was I supposed to do all.... this....? 'Get it together woman. You have NO choice.' And what I had no choice about was talking to the College mages about an Elder Scroll.

And then, I had a thought. Perhaps.... Dravynea? Or if not her, perhaps I could just talk to Tolfdir.... if I could get in to see him. But maybe I could get a message to him somehow.... At least, those were options that were more attractive to me than what Paarthurnax had said - that I'd probably have to prove I could do magic to get in, and then have to actually join as a student.... No, don't want to go there. I really don't have any magic.... I have dragon souls, and I have Shouts. Not magic - or not the kind the College teaches....

Finally I dragged myself to my feet, slung my cloak back around me, and started for the path down to Ivarstead. As I reached the door, Arngeir stopped me. "So. You have found a way. I hope - your honor will survive."

What an odd thing to say. I must have had a very strange look on my face, for he continued "The one thing of which I am sure is that you live and die by your honor. No, I don't know - or won't say - how I know.... but it is part of you. If you are required to abrogate your honor, Dragonborn, you may not survive its loss. I counsel you - be very careful."

DAMN people and their nebulous sort-of kind-of prophecies! But I bowed to him, and then he moved to let me go out of High Hrothgar. I felt - cleaner, freer - out in the cold of the tallest mountain in Skyrim. Even if the cold had nigh killed me a couple of days before.... I decided I'd stay the night in Ivarstead, warm up some, have a good meal, listen to Lynly - she was at least able to sing on key, unlike so many of the inns' bards. Of course, they didn't get paid much - and so, you get what you pay for, ain't?

As I ate, I wrote to the family. I didn't tell them everything, just that I had to go find a scroll that supposedly someone at the College could help me with - but that I was going to talk to Dravynea first. And that I hoped to stop through Morthal before I went wherever it was I would have to go. And that I would let those in Kynesgrove know that Roggi was doing well. Now, wasn't it handy that a Courier walked in just as I sealed the letter? I paid him the tare, and took myself off to bed.

In the morning, I headed for Whiterun. I'd get a carriage from there to Windhelm, which would make the trip to Kynesgrove not quite so onerous.

Sere, warrior or not, fey or not, you've just made me realize how hard...how daunting, being Dragonborn could be, from a woman's perspective. Very good!

Ake...#81

Oboy, Andy. That's.... powerful, that is. Marcus and Valerius are just lucky she didn't go baresark on them for that! Wow..... GREAT writing, sis!

Thanks Sere!